Sticking Together
by Aeralei
Summary: After becoming the target for a school bully, Wally West finds himself a friend in the mysterious, Dick Grayson. Responding to a prompt for DickWally Week 2019: High School/College
1. Chapter 1

"What are you doing here, FREAK?"

It was the same old thing at every school Wally West went to. The football team would take one look at Wally's thin figure, dorky glasses and ruby red hair and decide that he would be their next target. Wally had only been at Gotham City High for only 2 days before the quarterback, Jake Rozen, decided the redhead needed a new makeover. It was like clockwork, really.

"Hey-," Wally tried to get out before being shoved into his locker by the large, brunette man.

"Did I say you could speak?" the jock spat in Wally's face as he grabbed ahold of Wally's used school uniform and lifted him off the ground. There were two others keeping an eye out for teachers; however, the students seemed to pretend like nothing was happening at all.

"I mean technically you-"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Jake screamed. Wally swallowed and figured it was in his best interest to stay silent, at least for awhile.

"Tell me, how come some smart mouth 13 year old from Central City end up a Junior here at Gotham?" Jake asked, his voice filled with hatred as he leaned within inches from Wally's face. Wally flinched and turned away, slightly, to avoid too much spit on his lenses. Before Wally could even think of a reply, Jake shoved him again into the locker. He could already feel the bruise forming on his back.

"Now, unless you want to end up with my fist in your face, you're going to do exactly what I say, GOT IT?" Wally's eyes widen and he chose to just nod his head, as a response.

Seeming satisfied, Jake began to smirk. He then dropped Wally back on the ground, but not before shoving him towards the direction of the men's bathroom. Inside, the various tenants of said bathroom scattered at the very site of Jake and his goonies. The jock shoved Wally into the nearest stall and shut the door behind them, the sound reverberating across the now empty room.

Wally turned towards the other man, slightly leaning over the toilet to try and get some distance. It didn't help. Jake got in Wally's face again, a hateful glare in his brown eyes. "So, Dweeb, since you're so smart, here's what's going to happen: you're going to start doing my homework for the rest of the school year. Or else, you'll be beaten within an inch of your life."

Wally's heart plummeted, he hated when they resorted to this. His emerald eyes flickered with resistance in them. He had worked too hard to get transferred here for some rich snob to abuse his brains. Or bash them in.

"No," the redhead responded coldly, knowing full well the consequences of his defiance.

A flicker of surprise went through Jake's face. Dweebs like Wally weren't supposed to fight back.

"Excuse me, you little prick?" Jake asked, venom dripping from his words.

Resisting the urge to flinch, Wally held his ground and tried to stand up straighter, as to appear to not be threatened by the Jock.

"I said, no."

Jake stiffened at his words and released his grip on Wally, causing the redhead to stumble as Wally began to look up, Jake's left arm swung out and punched him with enough force, it broke his nose instantly with a large CRACK! Wally fell back, slamming his head into the back of the toilet. This, also, led to the rest of his body to fall into said toilet and making him to become soaked. Lovely.

The jock crouched down to look at Wally, as the redhead groaned and began to try and sit up.

"Now, shall we try that again?" Jake asked calmly.

A metallic taste filled Wally's mouth as blood began pouring out of his nose. His world was also beginning to spin.

"F-Fuck you," Wally whispered, spitting blood right into Jake's face.

The jock gasped and backed away. Using his sleeve, he quickly wiped the blood off, leaving behind a look of absolute loathing on his face.

"You'll regret THAT," Jake roared, reaching forward to grab Wally by the hair. The motion caused Wally to gasp out in pain as he was forced up from the toilet, only to have his entire head shoved straight into the water. The redhead began to struggle to get out but to no avail. His small figure was nothing compared to the football captain. After about a minute, Jake pulled Wally up, eyes gleaming. He was enjoying every second of this encounter.

"Gotham isn't for pathetic brats, like you. You should've stayed in Central City."

Black dots speckled his vision as Jake shoved the redhead back into the toilet bowl. This time, Jake held him under so long, Wally struggled to not breath in the disgusting water.

Suddenly, the bathroom door slammed open.

Without letting go of Wally, he yelled, "Oi, get out of my bathroom!"

There were sounds of a scruffle as Jake's goonies began to fight the mysterious figure, before both dropped down unconscious, seconds later. Upon seeing their shadows under the stall. Jake began to worry.

"Whoever it is, this ain't your business so piss off!" Jake yelled, though there was a slight quiver in his voice.

Slamming open the door, a young man with jet black hair, quickly grabbed ahold of Jake and threw him out of the stall. He rushed to grab ahold of Wally and pull him out of the water. Wally began gasping for air and quickly sat down on the floor. The redhead wrapped his arms around his knees as the dark spots in his vision began to dance even worse across his vision. One look at the stream of blood going down Wally's face and the stranger began grabbing a handful of toilet paper. He then grabbed Wally's hand and forced him to put the toilet paper and pressure against the broken nose.

"Stay awake and DON'T move," the dark-haired stranger said, turning his attention to Jake, who was beginning to get up off the ground.

"So, Jake, I see you haven't changed since last school year. What are your mommy and daddy mad about your grades already?" the mystery man asked in annoyance.

"Grayson-!" Jake started before he was cut off by the other man grabbing ahold of his shirt.

"Ah ah ah. Don't test me, Rozen!" the man threatened. "Now, let's make a little deal shall we? You leave my friend here alone and I won't bash your skull into the sink. Deal?"

The jock stilled at the supposed "Grayson's" words and a look of terror flashed upon his face before it quickly went away.

"I can take you, you son of a bitch!" Jake responded, putting as much braveness into his voice that he could muster.

The other man's eyes seem to harden and he glared down at the jock, who began shaking under the intensity.

"Have it your way then," the man responded quietly, before slamming Jake's face into the sink. The jock didn't even have time to react before he slipped into unconsciousness.

The mystery man turned, satisfied Jake was subdued, before racing over at the now slumped over redhead.

"Hey,hey look at me," the man said, concern laced in his voice. He gently shook Wally and leaned him into a more upright position. The makeshift bandage had been forgotten and his nose was now bleeding at full force again.

Wally struggled to look up, as the throbbing in his head intensified.

"So you're my hero, huh? I had it covered, I swear!" Wally tried joking, wincing as his own voice hurt his skull.

The other man was shocked at the young man's attempt at cheerfulness, all things considered, but he masked it with a chuckle, "Obviously. My name is Dick, by the way, Dick Grayson." Dick began to grab more toilet paper and passed it over to Wally.

"Wally, Wally West," the redhead groaned, reaching up to hold his nose again. Dick noticed a trail of blood against the stall, not caused by the redhead's nose, and a large amount of blood caked on the toilet. His brows furrowed with concern.

"Do you mind if I take a look at your head?" Dick asked gently, reaching a hand out.

Wally smirked, "You already are, it's what eyes are for!"

Wally began to turn his head but the sudden movement had him quickly changing paths towards to toilet to throw up. It was then Dick saw thick blood running down the back of Wally's head. Cursing, Dick grabbed the rest of the roll of toilet paper and began putting pressure on the wound; the redhead continued to heave everything he had ever eaten. When he was finished, Wally continued to lean into the bowl, his strength wiped.

"Hey, Wally-" Dick started, trying to ease the redhead off the toilet. "I'm going to take you to get some help, ok?"

All the redhead could muster was a groan as Dick slowly scooped him up into his arms. Dick's voice sounded too far away for Wally to care. Unable to fight it any longer, Wally finally gave into the darkness, listening to the sounds of Dick's frantic heartbeat.


	2. Emerald Eyes

Dick's POV

Thump, thump.

Someone once told me: the eyes are the windows to the soul. They're like 2 glass marbles, both colorful and transparent, that look right into a person.

Maybe that's why superhero's wear masks?

To give them an edge against the normal thug.

To hide their true intent.

Thump, thump.

When I walked into that bathroom to find my would-be opponent, I wore no mask. My intentions were clear: I was to find and save Jake Rozin's next victim. Then maybe bash Jake's face in one more time for good measure.

That was, until I looked into Wally West's bright green eyes.

They were like 2 emeralds, both rough and hardened; and yet…..clinging to some sort of innocence.

Though...I couldn't deny the darker shadows I had seen as well, ones that mirrored my own.

One glance at his eyes and my intentions changed.

Thump, thump.

Time can be a funny thing. It can speed up, slow down, or even stand completely still, subjective to the person watching.

I have never stopped fearing the power of time, always worried that it may soon run out.

Again.

Time slowed down as I carried Wally in my arms.

As I felt him become completely limp, everything else in the world ceased to matter, except the task at hand. I was still running towards help and yet ...I became increasingly aware of how he felt.

The feeling of his soft, red hair prickling my chin.

The feeling of his breathing becoming deeper and deeper with every exhale.

The feeling of his pulse slowing down to a steady rhythm.

The feeling of his blood as it began to drip down my arm.

Thump, thump.

Time sped up when the ambulance arrived, everyone moving and acting like a well-oiled machine. Methodical and uncaring, as though this sort of thing happened all the time. Which, in Gotham, did.

Someone even had the audacity to try and force me to stay behind.

I practically snarled at them.

It wasn't until we got into said ambulance that I relinquished my hold on Wally, allowing the paramedics to strap him on the gurney and to the various machines.

Thump, thump.

Then I heard IT .

The sound of his heartbeat.

The constant, rhythmic beep was nothing compared to the real thing but it was enough for me to release some of the tension I had been holding in.

Time seemed grounded for the first time as the world slowed down to a normal pace. The paramedic was working hard to bandage up what she could, stalling time until we got to Gotham General Hospital.

I could tell by the glances she gave me that she was concerned about MY well-being and, really, who could blame her? I refused to say anything to her, except to give my own assessment of his injuries, not even glancing her way.

Until she asked me if I had anything to do with the others injured.

My chilling, cold-hearted smirk was enough to shut her up, leaving us to a comfortable (at least for me) silence.

Thump, thump.

Upon arrival, the hospital staff immediately separated us and forcing me towards the waiting room. I almost put up a fight but a small voice in my head told me to not make a scene and to be patient.

It sounded a lot like Alfred.

When the doctor finally came to get me after several hours of pacing, I forced myself to listen to what he was saying, things like concussion, dry drowning, broken nose, and a deep laceration to the back of his skull. Things that I had already come to the conclusion myself.

I just silently nodded and followed him back, just wanting to see the redhead once more.

Thump, thump.

I heard him before I saw him. At least, his heartbeat.

Unable to pay attention to the doctor any longer, I moved into the room and glanced over the still figure before me.

Wally West was now wearing a standard hospital gown and was hooked up to an IV drip, oxygen tank, and heart monitor. Bandages were wrapped around his head, focusing the majority of the pressure to the back of his skull. His once, bloody nose was now covered up and sat in a less crooked angle. In between it all, various shades of purple and red bruises were sprinkled amongst his freckles.

Wordlessly, the doctor pulled up a chair for me and left, leaving me to my own thoughts.

Thump, thump.

For the first time that day, I was at a loss.

Here I was, a complete stranger, standing beside him like a friend.

Wanting to be there for him when he awoke.

Needing to be.

After several minutes, I slowly lowered myself into the chair, afraid of waking him up. I remained that way for what felt like an eternity, listening to peaceful sounds of his heart rate monitor.

Refusing to move.

Until I found myself reaching out to touch his wrist, too scared to grab his hand.

Thump, thump.

There.

Under my fingers.

I FELT it.

The feeling of his heart beating.

Thump, thump.

As the feeling under my fingers synced with the melody in my ears, the world became one shade clearer. Every thought, every intention had ceased to be.

I did not know what was going to happen next, nor did I care. All I knew was that I would be there when he awoke.

To look into those beautiful emerald eyes, even just once more.

To chase away the shadows.


	3. Bluebird

Wally's POV

I hate sleeping.

Well, dreams really.

There is nothing real or concrete in dreams, just your subconscious playing "make believe" with your thoughts and fears.

Or sometimes memories.

Which is why I try to avoid any more than the recommended amount.

But waking up after getting pulverized by a 250lb football player?

All I wanted was to go BACK to sleep.

You know that scene in Lion King, where Zazu gets trampled by a stampede of musical animals, then sat on by a rhino?

That was how my face felt.

UHH...Not again. You would think I would learn after last time…..

Groaning, I opened my eyes to a spinning gray room. Well, spinning for me, anyways. I didn't think the room was ACTUALLY rotating. I would've needed some serious drugs for that. After blinking several times, in an attempt to make the world slow down, I began to take note of my surroundings. The boring hospital walls had no decorations, aside from a barred window (we are in Gotham) that shined a small amount of sunlight on the gray decor. To my right, I had an iv drip, heart rate monitor, and even an oxygen tank, running tubes and wires onto my body. I felt like some sort of robot, which was probably the most exciting thing about the room.

Well, except, for the disgruntled figure beside me; who, by the spiky hair and rubbing of his eyes, looked as though they had just woken up.

And the hand on my wrist.

….Who…?

I sat there, waiting for the unknown culprit to look at me, only to lock eyes with a set of familiar crystal blue ones.

Dick Grayson? Why is pretty boy holding my-?

We both looked down at Dick's hand and flinched away from each other.

"Heh...heh. Er….Sorry….," Dick mumbled under his breath, while rubbing his hands together. There was an awkward silence that followed, which I spent trying not to throw up from moving too fast. Dick seemed to have noticed my discomfort, as concern flickered across his golden-toned face.

Ugh, what I wouldn't give to tan like that. I hate turning into a bright red tomato!

Chuckling to myself at that thought, I decided to try and break the ice.

"So….. did you kill the others?"

Dick's eyes practically popped out of his face, as he quickly stood up and began spitting out a response, "WH-WH-WHAT?!"

"Ooooo, too loud, Dick, too loud!" I whisper-yelled, putting my hands over my ears. Every word was like a knife to my aching head.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you accuse me of murder and expect me to BE QUIET?" Dick spewed. Though he did seem to take the volume down an octave.

Rubbing my temples, I cocked one eyebrow up and began to laugh, uncontrollably. Oh boy.

"It was a JOKE! Calm down, don't get your feathers in a bunch!"

Dick stiffened at my words, before finally relaxing back into his seat. He continued to eye me, as though I were some sort of crazed lunatic. I took a deep breath, putting a stop to my laughter, before continuing.

"Relaxxxxx. OK, let's start over," I said, thrusting my hand his direction. "Hello, I'm Wally and I make jokes in awkward situations!"

Dick looked down at my hand, as though it were some kind of trap, before cautiously shaking it. Jeez, what is with this guy? Can't he take a joke?

He locked eyes with me, cocking his head slightly to the side and began to smirk.

"Dick. So, this is a normal thing for you, is it? Getting your ass handed to you by a bunch of bullies?"

"What?! Hey, I'll have you know I had everything under control until you showed up!" I replied, crossing my arms across my chest for added effect.

"Uh huh, sure, drowning in a toilet seems like an excellent plan. I take it you couldn't afford plastic surgery and thought a broken nose was a cheaper solution?" Dick's smirk deepened, seeming smug about the red tint growing across my face.

"Broken nose, huh?" I asked, trying to change topics. Uncrossing my arms, I clasped them uncaringly behind my head and began to grin. "I'm guessing a concussion as well, based on how the world's spinning a tad faster than normal?"

"Concussion, a broken nose, the water buildup in your lungs caused dry drowning, oh, and you split the backside of your head wide open. Took 15 stitches to close it up." Dick said, his serious voice and demeanor a sharp contrast to my own. This guy really needs to learn to lighten up!

"You really need to be more careful."

I felt the smile on my face drop a hair at his almost caring words. Locking eyes, once more, I searched for some sort of meaning behind it. Guess I really worried, pretty boy .

"Talk about victim blaming, I see how it is! Not my fault my dazzling good looks and bright red hair make me an easy pick in a crowd! Besides, I have you to thank for being here, right?"

Dick cocked one eyebrow up, looking as though I grew another head. Wait…

"Hey, I didn't mean YOU put me in here, I didn't hit my head THAT hard. I mean, the last thing I remember was you carrying me in your arms like some damsel in distress! MY HERO!" I dramatically draped my hand across my head, for added effect.

Watching the look of uncomfortableness flash in his blue eyes was TOTALLY worth the pain of smacking my face.

As much as I like ruffling his feathers, Bluebird needs to take a chill pill…..HA Bluebird, totally calling him that from now on. Or just Birdie…..both are GOLDEN!

Sadly, the doctor decided to walk in before I got the chance to grace Dick with his new nickname (or names.)

"Ah, Mr. West! I see you've decided to finally wake up! Enjoy your beauty sleep? Though, by the state of your hair, I think not. I'm Doctor Mills!" Doctor Mills reached out to shake my hand, which I promptly took. Dick began to snicker beside me at the doctor's teasing; I chose to ignore him.

"Well, Doc, hard to catch any sleep when your roommate snores like bear-"

"HEY, I DO NOT-" Dick started, before I promptly cut him off.

"Seriously, do you all have any ear plugs?"

I, somehow, managed to keep a straight face, long enough to look at the bewilderment on Dick's face. And began laughing so hard, I began to cry.

Doctor Mills just stood there smiling until I quieted down.

"Well, my hope is you won't be needing those ear plugs and to discharge you later today! But, first things first, I need to take a look at your bandages and see how your swelling is doing. Mr. Grayson is welcome to stay, if you want him to-"

I didn't even have the time to react before Dick cut in.

"Actually, I need to make a phone call," Dick replied, glaring at me (almost apologetically,) before heading towards the door.

Part of me felt sad to see him go.

Another part thoroughly enjoyed watching his behind.

Dick's POV

" -And need I remind you, Master Grayson, you are still underage and such reckless behavior will NOT be tolerated under my roof! I don't care what Master Bruce has taught you-"

"Alfred, I-"

" Do NOT interrupt me. As I was saying-" Alfred continued on.

Alfred had been chewing me out for the entirety of our phone call (going on 30 minutes) and I had yet to get a word in. Although I DID text Bruce last night to let him know I wouldn't be around for patrol; it wasn't enough for Alfred, who only got a phone call from school. And, based on the amount of yelling, they didn't tell him much of anything.

"- I expected this type of behavior from Master Jason, not you. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

I breathed a sigh of relief at the opportunity to speak.

"Look, I'm sorry, Alfred. I don't know what the school's saying, but those assholes from the football team ganged up on the new kid from Central City. I found them shoving the kid's face in the toilet, after already breaking his nose. They got what they deserved. I went with him to the hospital and waited all night for someone to come for him. ALL. NIGHT. And no one came. So, I'm sorry for not texting you and ditching school but someone had to be there for him."

I had been gripping my phone so hard, I'm surprised the screen hadn't cracked. Who the hell does that to a kid?

There was a brief silence on the phone, before I heard Alfred release some of his own anger in a HUFF.

" Well, I'm glad you could play hero in the real world, but next time you will fill me in on your antics. Or else, I will be forced to tell Master Bruce about your Blüdhaven plans."

I froze at his words. It had been hard enough convincing Bruce to let me go out as Nightwing on my own, so Jason could have a shot at Robin. The last thing I needed was for Alfred to tell him preemptively and have a very angry Batman on my hands. I involuntarily shivered at the thought.

"Duly noted. Now Alfred, I need to ask a favor for this afternoon….."

Wally's POV

Sitting still isn't my strong suit.

I tend to go stir crazy and fidget a lot.

Especially when someone pokes and prods you like some kind of playdoh. Seriously, I swear the Doc gave me MORE bruises!

When Doctor Mills was finally done, I was chomping at the bit to get out of the hell hole. And really, if we're being honest, I would've made a run for its earlier, if Dick hadn't stuck around…After Dick's "secret phone call," Doctor Mills pulled Dick aside to talk, while a nurse came by and gave me breakfast. Or, the resemblance of some sort of breakfast. I examined my food like some sort of science experiment.

Eggs are supposed to be yellow, not gray! And since when does milk smell like chemicals…? At least there's Jello-

Just then, Dick swiped my jello right off my tray.

"HEY! That's mine!"

He chose to ignore me entirely, plopping down in his seat and began taking the top off it. When I went to swipe it back, he quickly countered my hand, grinned viciously, and looked me dead in the eye before proceeding to LICK my Jello.

ThatSonofa-

"GAH, fine, whatever, I don't even like purple Jello…." I pouted, throwing the spoon at his face ( He caught it like it was nothing, the reflexes on this guy...) I, then, pretended my eggs were Dick's stupid face and stabbed them profusely.

Doctor Mills came back after a few minutes with his fancy clipboard and a promising smile.

"Well, good news, Mr. West, the swelling around your stitches and nose has gone down, tremendously. Your stitches are currently set to come out in about a week and I'll double check your nose at that time. As for your concussion, you are on the mild side but you may still experience the symptoms for the next few weeks. You will need to avoid any strenuous activity, such as sports, riding a bike, etc. Assuming you don't fall on your face in the next hour, I say you are good to head home. I'm writing you a prescription for a mild painkiller, which will have an anti-inflammatory in it, as well, to help with the swelling. Any questions or concerns?"

My face lit up like a Christmas tree at the thought of getting out of here and NOT eating more hospital food.

"Nah, I think I'm good, Doc. Just happy to get out of here, hospitals aren't really my thing!"

Doctor Mills went to leave, before turning right back around with a finger up in the air, dramatically. "Oh,I almost forgot! Mr. Grayson, here, has offered to give you a ride home!"

Pure dread swept over me at Doctor Mills' words. Nonononono not good.

"Wh-WHAT? No, no, that's okay, I can just walk-"

"Not happening," Dick said, coldly, while scooping another bite of jello into his mouth. My eye began to twitch with annoyance.

"No, really, I'm fine, I walk everywhere!"

Dick was about to retort, when Doctor Mills decided to chip in: "Well, actually, you need someone over 18, to check you out of the hospital. We called home and got permission to allow one of Mr. Grayson's family members to check you out. He's in the waiting room now."

With that, Doctor Mills left, leaving me with a very satisfied, Bluebird.

I took one glance Dick's smug face….

And chucked the eggs at him.

**A few minutes later. (30-45 minutes, really)**

"A LIMOUSINE? What the HELL, Grayson?"

You know, you would think that after a strange British guy named Alfred shows up, claiming to be Bluebird's freaking butler, I would've gotten some hint these people had money. NOPE.

Alfred had been kind enough to push me in the wheelchair, seeing how I couldn't walk long distances without wanting to hurl (something the Doc had said was completely normal right after a concussion). After having spent the entirety of check out cleaning scrambled eggs out of his clothes, Dick resorted to sulking behind us, arms crossed and scowling. He even put a pair of dark sunglasses on to complete the whole "brooding" look. I took it as a silent victory and kept my mouth shut ( TAKE THAT FOR EATING MY JELLO), until we got to said limousine.

Dick took this as an opportunity to open the car door, mouth twitching upward into a smirk.

"What was that about walking, WEST?"

My smile quickly went away and I grumbled a thank you at Alfred, who assisted me into the vehicle. Dick smoothly slid into the seat across from me, arms crossed triumphantly. I looked up at him and began to smile.

"Hey, Bluebird?"

Dick's demeanor froze at the name, confusion in his eyes.

"You still have egg in your hair."


End file.
